Chapter 2 - The Setup for Divorce
When we arrived at our Upper East Side penthouse, the sensor lights in the foyer flickered on, illuminating Julian’s cold, rigid face.
“Let’s get a divorce.”
He took off his suit jacket, casually tossing it onto the sofa. His tone was like announcing bad weather for tomorrow.
I had waited ten years for this sentence. I looked at him calmly.
“What about the company?”
That was the empire my parents had built from scratch, Vance Enterprises, pouring their life’s blood into it.
“The company?” Julian scoffed, as if hearing a massive joke. He pulled a bottle of whiskey from the liquor cabinet and poured himself half a glass. “Olivia, has being a housewife made you stupid? The company was transferred to my name a long time ago. It has nothing to do with you.”
He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his eyes full of sarcasm.
“Consider it compensation; I’ll give you a sum of money, enough so you won't have to worry about food and clothes for the rest of your life. Don't be too greedy.”
My heart felt as if an icy hand was squeezing it, slowly tightening, hurting so much I could barely breathe. I remembered how, ten years ago, my parents had confidently placed the company and me into his hands. I remembered how I believed his sweet lies, giving up my opportunity to pursue a master's degree in Germany, willingly washing my hands to cook his soup.
Ten years. I turned myself into a satellite orbiting only him, a respectable nanny, a qualified partner to live with. I shielded him from all the storms, yet he personally delivered the most fatal blow.
“Look at yourself right now,” Julian assessed me from head to toe, the disgust in his eyes unhidden. “Out of touch with society, no real friends, can't even understand a simple foreign sentence. Without me, how would you survive out there?”
He judged my uselessness from his high horse, as if my entire worth relied on his existence.
“I’m no longer the poor kid who had to rely on your family's resources ten years ago. And you are still the naive Olivia Vance from back then.”
So that was it. He sucked my blood and flesh to grow strong. Once his wings were fully grown, he kicked away the empty shell he had drained.
A giant man-child who refused to grow up. The modern epitome of a treacherous, ungrateful man.
I didn't argue, nor did I cry.
“Fine. I’ll move out tomorrow.”
With that, I turned and walked into the bedroom, silently packing my things. My calmness clearly exceeded Julian’s expectations. He was stunned for a moment, then an even more smug expression appeared on his face. He probably thought this sudden blow had completely crushed me, leaving me with no strength to resist.
That night, I didn't sleep.
Waiting until he fell into satisfied snores, I went into the study alone. Opening my laptop, the cold light from the screen illuminated my pale face.
On the screen, in an encrypted folder, lay all the corporate documents I had secretly organized over the years. Complex equity structure diagrams, suspicious offshore cash flows, all clearly marked by me in different colors.
I put on my noise-canceling headphones. Inside played the multilingual economic news from BBC, CNN, and Deutsche Welle. These were my daily habits. He thought I was immersed in trivial soap operas. In reality, I had never disconnected from this world.
After confirming all the documents were flawless, I dialed an international number that had gathered dust for a long time. The call connected, and an old, stern voice came through.
I took a deep breath and spoke in fluent, precise German: “Professor Harrison, it’s me, Olivia. I need your help.”
The other end was silent for a moment, followed by a sigh.
“Child, I’ve been waiting for this call for ten years.”
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When I hung up, dawn was breaking outside the window.
A new day had begun. My counterattack was about to begin, too.
